


Bedside Manners

by firecat



Category: Nero Wolfe - Rex Stout
Genre: Bedside Vigils, Bruises, Comfort Food, Developing Relationship, Gentle Sex, Hand Jobs, Head Injury, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M, Massage, Mild Blood, Morse Code, Nero Wolfe has to leave the brownstone, Oral Sex, POV First Person (Canonical), Teasing, at lunchtime
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-18 16:08:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29371320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firecat/pseuds/firecat
Summary: Archie foolishly confronted a murder suspect and suffered a head injury and bruising. As Nero Wolfe sits by his bedside, Archie worries about what his error in judgement will mean for their newly developing romantic relationship.
Relationships: Archie Goodwin/Nero Wolfe
Comments: 8
Kudos: 15
Collections: Chocolate Box - Round 6





	Bedside Manners

**Author's Note:**

  * For [deepandlovelydark](https://archiveofourown.org/users/deepandlovelydark/gifts).



“Come down here and collect your stray, Wolfe,” I heard Inspector Cramer growl into the telephone. “Before I put him into general population for beating up suspects. And for refusing to answer my questions. Oh, and you’re to come yourself. Don’t send your lackeys. The fee for my rescuing your lap dog is that you’re going to hear me give you a piece of my mind.”

Oh my ears and whiskers, I was in trouble now.

I wasn’t worried Wolfe would fire me. I’d wound up in Cramer’s clutches before, and it hadn’t fazed Wolfe at all. In fact I rather liked it when he came riding to my rescue. 

But I was terrified that my error in judgement might upset the new aspect of our relationship — only three weeks old, and I had no idea how fragile it might be.

Worst of all, it was lunchtime. I was sure Wolfe would never forgive me for forcing him to leave the brownstone during lunch.

“Just tie me and throw me to the prisoners, Inspector,” I called from the chair I was handcuffed to, and trying my level best not to bleed on. “I am not as important as braised lamb shanks with wild mushrooms.”

“Even when you’re bleeding to death?” Cramer said. He looked me over with a scowl on his face, then scrounged in his desk drawer and pulled out a filthy handkerchief. He used it to replace the filthy and now also blood-soaked handkerchief currently covering my noggin, where I’d received a whack with a tire iron. I had dodged as I saw it coming, so the wound was more of a scrape than a skull-crusher, but the less dangerous ones always hurt more. I’d always found that the serious head knocks tended to throw the pain communication channels askew for a while.

“You’d better hope I bleed to death, rather than dying of an infection I catch off that handkerchief,” I told him. “The germs on it have probably developed civilization all the way up to feudalism by now.”

“I don’t know what will finally kill you,” Cramer retorted, “but the last bit of your mind to expire will surely be the sarcasm.” He whacked my shoulder. I yelled, because I’d also received a nasty blow there from the brute who attacked me. All right, so I had gone for him first. That wasn’t an excuse for him to play military tattoos on my skeleton. 

I must have half passed out, because the next thing I was aware of was Wolfe looming over me as Cramer unlocked the handcuffs. 

Few visions had ever felt so welcome to me.

“I’ll have you on charges of police brutality if you give me or Archie any more trouble,” Wolfe said in a stentorious voice. He was fixing Cramer with a look that might have struck fear into the heart of Atilla the Hun himself. Even Cramer looked a tad embarrassed for a moment. But he rallied.

“Police didn’t do this to your precious errand boy,” Cramer snapped at Wolfe. “The murder suspect he tried to take down on his own initiative, _without_ calling for police aid, did that. You should be grateful we picked him up off the street when we did.”

“He should have been taken to a hospital,” objected Wolfe. “People my size have blood to spare, but waifs like Mr Goodwin do not.”

“We took Mr Goodwin in for his own safety,” replied Cramer. “He refused to be taken to a hospital. As we were not arresting him, we honored his wishes.”

“And he also expressed _wishes_ to be handcuffed to a chair?” Wolfe demanded sternly. 

“He kept sliding off,” explained Cramer in irritated tones.

“Pfui,” was all Wolfe could muster in response to that, so great was his rage. I’d seen him angered to the point of wordlessness only a handful of times. 

“Archie?” he said. He gazed at me, and his infuriated face abruptly turned worried and tender. 

One glance at him, and I felt Death’s door recede into the distance behind me.

“Sir?” I murmured. 

Wolfe’s lips turned up a millimeter or two in what was for him a bright smile. He pried my eyelids open. “No sign of concussion. Good. I will fetch Saul from the car to help you.”

“I can walk,” I told him, praying to the god I didn’t believe in that it would prove true.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

I surged to my feet, wavered dangerously once, and stood almost firmly upon the ground. I took a step, then another. 

“All right, Archie, you hard-bitten tough, have it your own way,” Wolfe said. He cast one final glare at Cramer and took my arm.

I confess I leaned on it heavily as we made our way to the car. I also confess I didn’t need the support as much as I made it seem. I just liked an excuse for touching him, his warm, broad side. It was a pleasure new to me.

~~~

Wolfe probably would have tried to carry me up to bed. He’d probably have succeeded too. I’d suspected, but not known until recently, that there were muscles under the layer of insulation, and he was much stronger than people assumed him to be. 

Fortunately, he didn’t need to, because of the elevator. 

We got out at the second floor and he steered me toward his room.

“My room is on the third floor,” I reminded him.

“You’re staying in my room until I know you’re on the mend,” Wolfe said. “I can sleep in the easy chair there. Your room has none.”

“Wolfe,“ I said. _“Nero,”_ I ventured, seeing we were alone, “For Pete’s sake, you don’t need to sleep in a chair! I will be fine. Just put me in my own bed.”

“No,” said Wolfe implacably. “Into the bed with you.” 

When I tried to resist, he really did pick me up and toss me into his bed.

I shuddered, remembering the first time he’d done that, scant weeks ago. And what had followed, after.

I also cried, “Ouch! I’m bruised there!” as my shoulders, back, and fundament hit the mattress.

(I was exaggerating a little for effect. It was a very soft, deep mattress.)

“I’m sorry, Archie,” Wolfe said in a chastised voice. “Let me see.”

Then the repeat performance of our first time together seemed to continue, because he began undressing me as I lay helpless in the bed. At least this time he spared me the need to sew all my shirt buttons back on.

When he was finished (not without complaints from me, as he pulled my body this way and that to divest me of my clothing), he gasped. Another articulation I had almost never heard from him, except...

Wolfe touched my chest, and I winced. Not in pleasure.

“Archie, you are bruised _everywhere,” _he said, horror-struck. “There was more than one assailant, wasn’t there?”__

__“Just the one,” I said. “But he must have gotten his training from a much better boxing gym than I did.”_ _

__“What have I told you about taking foolish risks?” Wolfe chided._ _

__“Nero, every single one of my nerve endings is shouting ‘I told you so!’ I don’t need the reinforcement now. I’ll probably need it later when I’m recovered enough to want a repeat match with the fellow.”_ _

__“You won’t get one,” Wolfe said with finality. “While you were gone, I came up with proof of his guilt. He will be going behind bars for a very long time.”_ _

__“Perhaps I can persuade one of my prison pen-pals to act on my behalf,” I growled._ _

__“Archie,” Wolfe said in a quelling voice, “you know I don’t like it when you remind me of how blood-thirsty you can be.”_ _

__“I’m blood-thirsty now because I’ve lost a good deal of mine,” I reminded him._ _

__Wolfe’s expression showed chagrin. “Speaking of that, I’m going to clean you up now. Don’t you dare try to get out of bed, or I won’t answer for the consequences.”_ _

__Consequences. Oh my, did that threat have a different ring to it than it used to. If I hadn’t been half dead from blood loss, I would have been deeply tempted to find out what they would be._ _

__As it was, I lay obediently in the bed, far too aware of all my aches and pains, until Wolfe reappeared with Fritz, who was carrying a steaming and fragrant basin and a bright yellow washcloth._ _

__“Poor Archie,” condoled Fritz, shuddering delicately. “I will make you all the mushroom soup with tarragon you want. Starting tonight — I have wild mushrooms left over from lunch.”_ _

__“I should make sure to get beat up more often,” I replied._ _

__Fritz did an about face. He drew himself up to his full height of five feet, two inches, and his expression became as stern as he could make it. (Given the suppliers he often had to wrangle with, that was pretty stern.) “If you are going to take _that_ attitude about it, I shall serve you poached eggs instead.”_ _

__“Believe me, I was only joking. Even your soup isn’t worth this much pain,” I reassured him._ _

__Then I howled because Wolfe had touched my head wound with the very hot, wet washcloth. “Owww, that stings!”_ _

__“That’s the camphor,” said Fritz. “It will dull the pain in a few minutes. I can do that, sir,” he said, addressing Wolfe._ _

__“No,” said Wolfe curtly. “Fritz, please telephone Dr Vollmer and admit him when he arrives.”_ _

__“I don’t need a doctor,” I complained. “I’ve had a bruise or two before.”_ _

__“Don’t argue, Archie,” he said, continuing to bathe my head. The pain had indeed dulled, as Fritz had promised. The warmth of the moist cloth felt soothing, so the way the water was turning brown with my blood didn’t bother me as much as it might have otherwise._ _

__~~~_ _

__“He doesn’t seem to have a concussion,” Dr Vollmer pronounced to Wolfe after finishing his uncomfortably thorough examination of me. (He’d had to roll me over several times, and my bruised body was not happy about it.) “But to be on the safe side, for twenty-four hours, he should not sleep more than two hours at a time. When you wake him, make sure he can talk and move normally and his pupils are not dilated or of different sizes. As for the bruises, continue to apply this salve. And encourage blood flow with gentle massage and movement. But nothing strenuous.”_ _

__“Very good. Thank you, Doctor,” said Wolfe._ _

__As soon as the front door had closed behind Dr Vollmer, Wolfe covered my body with half a dozen blankets, each heavier than the last, and said “Go to sleep now. I will wake you in two hours.”_ _

__“This is too many blankets,” I protested. “You aren’t going to like roasted Archie. I’m past my prime and I’ll be all tough and stringy.”_ _

__“I will be right here. If you are too warm just say so,” Wolfe told me. He turned out the bedside light. Although it was still daytime, the room plunged into near-darkness — Wolfe had a set of the best blackout curtains that twentieth-century technology could produce._ _

__Then I heard him settle in the easy chair. He turned on a light beside it that illuminated only a small spot on his lap. He put on spectacles and took a book from his pocket. Carefully positioning the book in the spot of light, he began to read._ _

__Reading in the near dark. Wolfe was reading in the near dark so as not to leave my side._ _

__If someone had told me many years ago that I would have such an employer, such a companion, such a — well. I would have laughed a great deal and explained to them that my luck was never that good._ _

__~~~_ _

__Chilly air hitting my bare skin made me gasp._ _

__“Noooo, don’t wake me,” I complained._ _

__“Good, you’re speaking normally,” Wolfe said. He had removed the pile of blankets. “Now roll over.”_ _

__“I’m not moving for another week,” I told him._ _

__“Roll over or I will do it for you,” threatened Wolfe, “and although I suspect you’d enjoy that under normal circumstances, at the moment you probably have a better idea which parts of you are sore than I do.”_ _

__“It doesn’t matter. All my parts are sore,” I whined._ _

__But when I felt Wolfe’s hand touch my shoulder and apply pressure, I groaned and completed the movement on my own, rolling onto my stomach._ _

__“You’re moving reasonably normally as well. Excellent. Cover your eyes, Archie, I’m turning on the light.”_ _

__When he did so, Wolfe made an incoherent sound. Not quite a groan. Not quite a growl. Not quite a sob. He flattened his hand against the small of my back._ _

__“I’m going to apply some of this salve now,” he said._ _

__Then his hands, large and firm and slippery with liniment, were moving on me._ _

__I made more or less the same sound that he had. Because the pressure against my bruises hurt, and the warmth of his hands felt exquisite. And then there was the other reaction his touch awakened in me._ _

__Far too soon, he stopped touching me._ _

__“Now roll to your side,” he said. “I’m going to put a towel under you so the salve doesn’t stain the bed clothes.”_ _

__Fastidious as always._ _

__“Now onto your back again,” he said, once the towel was in place._ _

__I rolled to my back. “Please don’t let Wolfe notice it,” I prayed to the deity I didn’t believe in. This time I was telling him, her, or it of the tumescence under my boxer shorts._ _

__Then I remembered. There was no longer any reason to worry about his noticing it. On the contrary._ _

__I still wasn’t used to the idea that Wolfe might appreciate evidence of my desire for him. I’d hidden it for years. Until that night three weeks ago when he’d put all the pieces together and confronted me with it. And then I’d learned of his reciprocal desire.__

> __“What are you pondering?” I asked from my desk, as I watched him push his lips in and out, lost in some deductive trance._ _
> 
> __“Why I spent so long, in the face of ample contrary evidence, believing I am too unattractive for you to reciprocate my desire,” he said._ _
> 
> __And then he got up out of his custom-built desk chair, even though it was almost an hour before his usual hour for retiring._ _
> 
> __My heart beat like a rabbit’s as he came to stand over me._ _
> 
> __“And what I will do about it, now that I’ve deduced I was mistaken,” he went on._ _
> 
> __He half-leaned over and half-pulled me up to him by my lapels, and gave me a brief, searing hot kiss._ _
> 
> __“My bedroom. Now,” he demanded._ _

_  
_I hoped I would never get used to Wolfe’s appreciation._  
_  


__Wolfe’s liniment-covered hands were on my chest, stroking firmly. Then on my belly. Then my thighs._ _

__“As much as I would love to massage that swelling under your shorts, Archie, I am going to assume it is not a bruise,” he said, in a low voice that crawled up my spine and had my whole body shuddering in seconds. “We will need to wait until you’re more healed.”_ _

__“Nero,” I pleaded._ _

__“Shush,” he said. His lips dipped to touch mine for a few seconds, to make sure I did. “Open your eyes.”_ _

__He looked into them and said, “A bit dilated, I see, but not unevenly. All right. Go back to sleep now.”_ _

__I whined. “I’m never going to be able to get back to sleep now. Help me.”_ _

__Wolfe’s face flushed with lust, but he said, “if you’re still awake in fifteen minutes, I’ll consider it.”_ _

__“All right,” I acceded grudgingly. He turned out the light, piled the blankets back onto me, and went back to his chair._ _

__I knew I was still going to be awake in fifteen minutes, so I settled down in eager anticipation of their passage._ _

__~~~_ _

__“Wha? Is it morning already?” I babbled as I felt myself gently shaken._ _

__Wolfe’s deep voice purred in my ear. “It’s been another two hours,” he said. “Speech still normal. Time to apply more salve. Roll over.”_ _

__After a repeat performance of his first ministrations, and a replacement towel, I was on my back again. Nero seemed to have decided that my nipples were bruised. His slick fingertips brushed over them again and again._ _

__I tried to be quiet. Not only for the sake of Theodore and Fritz, but also because if I made as much noise as I felt like making, I was sure Wolfe would decide I was getting too excited and tell me to go to sleep again._ _

__“Perhaps I should check under your boxers for bruises,” Wolfe mused, pushing his lips in and out once. “You didn’t get kicked there, did you, Archie?”_ _

__“I believe the family jewels are still intact,” I reassured him. “But, as we are being so thorough and cautious about everything else...”_ _

__“Tell me if it hurts,” he said, in that thrilling voice, and he cupped the jewels — over the shorts, though, to my slight disappointment._ _

__“Not sure,” I gritted out. “Need closer inspection.”_ _

__“How about here?” he said, closing his hand over my silk-covered rigidity._ _

__“Very swollen,” I said. “Massage necessary.”_ _

__“That might trap more blood in the area,” Wolfe said with concern. His voice picked up a teasing nuance. “Perhaps I should ice it instead.”_ _

__I whimpered._ _

__“No,” he declared. “Moist heat would be better. But that can wait until after you’ve napped some more.”_ _

__“Have pity on a poor, wounded and bruised man,” I begged._ _

__“You’re right,” Wolfe rumbled. “I shouldn’t rush things. I’ll assess your readiness for moist heat therapy again after two naps.”_ _

__I groaned. Why did I have to go and fall in love/lust with someone so singularly dedicated to teasing?_ _

__But, I had to admit, I’d gone into it with my eyes open to that aspect of his personality._ _

__Wolfe put my blankets back on. To my surprise, he then dragged the easy chair next to the bed. He sat in it, and slipped his hand under the covers, again laying it on my shorts, over my straining erection._ _

__I moaned his name._ _

__“Go to sleep,” he ordered._ _

__“I’m never going to be able to sleep with your hand there.”_ _

__“We shall see,” Wolfe said. He turned on the pinpoint light, adjusted it to point at his new location, and pulled the book out of his pocket._ _

__The warmth and pressure of his hand, which he kept very still, were vivid, and did keep me awake for a time — but also kept my mind focused on something other than the pain of my bruises. I gradually softened, but Wolfe didn’t move his hand. From frustration and pain, the physical feelings in my body gradually shifted into a profound comfort I’d rarely known, and finally I slipped into slumber._ _

__~~~_ _

__“Time to sup, Archie,” were the words I heard next. “Fritz prepared your favorite soup, as he promised.”_ _

__I sat up, Wolfe helping me to prop myself against the headboard, and then he laid a tray across my lap. The aroma of the mushrooms, cream, and tarragon was deeply enticing._ _

__My pain had chased away my hunger before, but now I found myself ravenous._ _

__So ravenous was I, in fact, that it took me several minutes to realize that Wolfe was similarly eating his supper from a tray in his lap._ _

__Maybe that was the first time I had an inkling of how strongly he felt about me._ _

__“Nero, you needn’t forgo eating dinner at a table,” I told him. “I’ll be fine by myself for an hour.”_ _

__“I may not be eating at a table, Archie, but that doesn’t mean I’m forgoing all my other dining rules. No talking while there is food in front of us.”_ _

__With a grimace of chagrin, I shut up and continued eating my soup. It fortified me considerably. I didn’t realize until I was two thirds of the way through the bowl how poorly I had been feeling._ _

__Wolfe allowed me to stay awake for an hour after dinner. (“it does not do to go to sleep with a full stomach,” he solemnly informed me). He spoke to me of apparently inconsequential things — stories of Montenegro, books he had read recently, his favorite way to prepare oysters. His gaze sometimes rested on me, and sometimes seemingly on an inner vision. Subtle shifts in his expression told me he was thinking of pleasant things. Pâté de fois gras, or rare orchids, or..._ _

__“Time to go back to sleep, Archie,” he told me at the end of my after-dinner recreation time._ _

__I made a pro forma protest. It wouldn’t do to let Wolfe get used to my easy acquiescence, even if I felt like I’d just played seven sets of tennis, as the ball._ _

__Wolfe, of course, ignored it, and before I knew it, I was once again pinned under several hundred-weight of blankets, with only Wolfe’s reading-lamp for illumination in the room. He had moved the chair near to the head of the bed. After a few minutes, his fingers found their way into my hair, what little of it that wasn’t hidden under Dr Vollmer’s bandage._ _

__What with eating and being allowed to stay up for a whole hour afterward, I’d definitely had enough excitement for the evening, and I dropped to sleep almost immediately._ _

__~~~_ _

__“I find myself growing uncomfortable in this chair.”_ _

__Wolfe’s complaint awakened me. I pried my eyes open, and saw him gazing speculatively at me._ _

__I wasn’t yet fully awake, but I reacted quickly. I began to rise. “I’ll go back to my room,” I said. A little dizziness assaulted me as I swung my legs off the bed, but I tried to ignore it. Surely I could walk down the hall to the elevator. Holding on to the wall if necessary._ _

__Wolfe picked up my legs and slung me back onto the bed with considerable ease. “You’ll do no such thing. Roll over so I can apply the salve.”_ _

__The bruises were less painful this time as he rubbed my back and thighs. My moans were more of pleasure than of discomfort. I wiggled my ass and was rewarded when his hands gripped and kneaded it, although far too briefly._ _

__He bade me roll onto my back._ _

__“But perhaps you wouldn’t mind our sharing the bed,” Wolfe said, continuing on from his earlier utterance. “It’s plenty big enough. And you seem better — no longer quite so fragile. What do you think, Archie?”_ _

__“Will I let you into your own bed? I don’t know. A payment might need to be made...ouch! How dare you pinch me there, sir?!”_ _

__That got me a chuckle I didn’t hear often._ _

__“Get into your bed, Mister,” I ordered him._ _

__“All right. Thank you, Archie. I’ll just change into my pajamas.”_ _

__“What? Stain your lovely silk pajamas with this salve that’s all over me? Skip the pajamas, Nero. If this Mount Everest of blankets doesn’t keep you warm enough, I will.”_ _

__Wolfe’s face registered hesitation._ _

__I didn’t know why he was reluctant, but I wasn’t too proud to beg, if it meant a warm, naked Wolfe wrapped around me._ _

__“Please, Nero. God, I want to touch you so much. All of you.”_ _

__Wolfe _blushed.__ _

__“Very well, Archie,” he said. He tried to sound stern and matter-of-fact._ _

__He moved to the corner of the room where he hung his clothes and began unbuttoning his waistcoat._ _

__I continued making demands. “I want to see you. Take off your clothes for me. Please.”_ _

__He stepped nearer to the bed. He didn’t make a striptease out of it, but he took his time, and that was nearly the erotic limit of what my poor bruised body could stand anyway._ _

__The waistcoat. The suspenders. The cuff links. The shirt buttons, slowly, deliberately._ _

__The shoes. The trousers. The garters and socks._ _

__Then he moved within reach, wearing only his undershirt and boxers._ _

__My arm emerged from under the blankets, and I caressed his delightfully ample stomach, plucking at the shirt to expose some skin. I slipped my hand under the fold of his belly, and encountered the erection tenting his boxers._ _

__I couldn’t restrain myself and I groaned. So did he._ _

__He pulled off the undershirt._ _

__“If you don’t get that hot body into bed right this instant,” I told him, “I might do something strenuous. And we know that wouldn’t be good for me.”_ _

__A moment later, the blankets covering me had been replaced by a large, warm, naked Wolfe._ _

__“We can’t have that,” he growled._ _

__He was pinning me. Not using his weight, but his strength. I could scarcely move a muscle. Except my heart, pounding like the bass drum corps in a marching band._ _

__Every one of my nerves that had been complaining of pain was now shivering in anticipation of what might come next._ _

__I longed to be taken hard, like that first time, when it seemed as if he were releasing years of pent-up lust for me in a single encounter. Teasing my desire for him, smoldering and banked for years, into a blazing bonfire. I yearned to feel his hidden strength as he held down my arms on the bed, leaning over to take his fill of my mouth. Tore open my shirt to lick my nipples, kiss my chest. I remembered his being in a hurry — Wolfe! In a hurry! — to pull off my trousers, and how I came in his mouth, almost as soon as he’d sucked in my cock. Embarrassed, but unable to control my body’s reaction to getting what I’d longed for._ _

__He didn’t take me hard this time. He kissed my mouth. Tenderly._ _

__“Nap time, Archie,” he told me._ _

__I was so comfortable, with his warmth and solidity against me, that I didn’t even feel like arguing._ _

__~~~_ _

__I was having a damned good dream._ _

__“I’m in favor of this,” my cock told me. “You should have dreams like this more often.”_ _

__Waking up was even better._ _

__My cock was in Wolfe’s mouth. I wasn’t yet fully hard, and he was rolling it around with his tongue._ _

__I wasn’t quite sure where the rest of him had gone. Maybe the bed was bigger than I was remembering right now._ _

__“I see you’re — ahh! — delivering the moist heat therapy you promised...oh God...”_ _

__Wolfe’s reply was a deep rumble of pleasure._ _

__I was rigid within seconds. Wolfe wrapped his hand around the base of my cock and his lips around the tip._ _

__He took his time with it, as he did with everything he put in his mouth. Yes, he was treating me as if I were as savory as Roast Quail Veronique, or Bacalhau, or...but then he took me deeper, and there was absolutely no more room in my conscious mind for recipes._ _

__I don’t know how he managed to draw out the pleasure for so long. Or how he was able to bring me in a slow, gently cresting wave that foamed through me without wracking me with whole-body convulsions, the way I usually responded to his attentions of this kind. Granted, he usually teased me into a desperate frenzy first._ _

__The mattress pitched, and Wolfe was suddenly settling his body alongside me. I found his mouth and he shared me with myself._ _

__“You need a shave, Archie,” he grumbled as my stubbly cheek rasped against his._ _

__“My apologies for my grooming failure. I’ve been held captive in bed by ogres all day. Ogres who never provided me with a barber or the means with which to barb myself.”_ _

__“Desist immediately from using back-formations based on false etymologies,” Wolfe demanded, highly indignant._ _

__“Make me,” I challenged._ _

__He made me desist from saying anything at all. Deeply. Thoroughly._ _

__That didn’t stop me from communicating. In Morse code, with my hand on his cock. But I don’t think he heard me. Eventually it stopped mattering because I was just spelling OOOO over and over again. And then he was groaning my name into my mouth, and coming into my hand, and the resulting Morse code was gibberish._ _

__I vaguely remember a single blanket being drawn up to cover us._ _

__~~~_ _

__The next time I awoke, sunlight was beating against the blackout curtains, demanding entry._ _

__Wolfe’s face was tucked under my chin. He stirred, snuffled into my chest hair, and then suddenly struggled upright._ _

__“Oh, no. I overslept. I should have wakened you several hours ago. Archie. Are you all right?”_ _

__I had been wriggling my various parts, testing for soreness._ _

__“Nothing wrong with me that a few indolent days of lying in bed won’t cure...ow! Warn a fellow before prying his eyelids open!”_ _

__“Your pupils look fine. Thank God.”_ _

__“I’m famished,” I realized. “Would you mind terribly putting on your pajamas and ringing Fritz for some milk for me?”_ _

__Wolfe reached over his head and rang the bell for Fritz._ _

__“Pajamas?” I asked._ _

__“No, you silly Archie. As fool-hardy as you have just proved yourself to be (again), I am still in love with you. I don’t know if you’re in love with me in return, but you seem to share at least the feelings of lust and affection. That means we are likely to continue fornicating on a regular basis. It would be foolish to try to hide this from the other members of the household. If they don’t already know, they will soon, but they’ll be reluctant to say anything, and that will just make an awkward mess. I want to get the awkwardness over with, in the open.”_ _

__Fritz knocked, and entered the room without waiting for Wolfe’s reply. He was bearing a tray with two tall glasses on it, one of milk and one of orange juice._ _

__When he saw us both in bed and naked from the waist up (our lower halves were still covered with a blanket), the tray bobbled dangerously, but he managed to catch it. Only a few drops of the milk spilled._ _

__“Just for the record, Nero,” I told him, “as stubborn and dictatorial as you continue to prove yourself to be, I am in love with you in return. And I certainly do want to continue the regular fornicating.”_ _

__I beamed at Fritz._ _

__Wolfe huffed in outrage. He had wanted to call the household together and make a Grand Announcement. I despise Grand Announcements of every kind, and I had played him._ _

__“Congratulations, Mr Wolfe and Mr Goodwin,” replied Fritz smoothly. “Will this mean any changes to the dining schedule? Shall I make up the breakfast tray for two from now on?”_ _

__“Of course the dining schedule will not change,” Wolfe informed him archly. “As for the breakfast tray, if we require two, I will ring the bell twice. Otherwise, just the usual one will suffice.”_ _

__“Very good, sir,” said Fritz. As he left the room, he said over his shoulder, “More good news! I got hold of some green tomato jam today.”_ _


End file.
